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You Sure You Wanna Bully a Mafia Principessa? Novel Cover

You Sure You Wanna Bully a Mafia Principessa?

Abandoned at birth and raised by ninety-nine influential mafia figures, the protagonist has spent years maintaining a low profile. However, her peaceful life shatters when school bully Viola Mariani targets her. Following a violent confrontation in the washroom, the protagonist defends herself, resulting in Viola falling down the stairs. Now, her teacher demands a meeting with her parents, unaware that calling these dangerous men will expose a world of power and consequences.
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Chapter 3

I couldn't believe that Ettore, the one who had slapped me outside the infirmary just yesterday and threatened to have his father kick my family out of Mirthaven, was dead. I instinctively backed away, my back hitting the cold, rough brick wall. "I had nothing to do with this. I never even made a move on him…"

"Who else would it be if not you?" Viola shrieked. She seized me by the hair and shoved me hard into the brickwork, causing my vision to swim. "You ought to know that the police had gone through his phone—and you were the last person to message him!"

She shoved the phone right in front of my eyes, forcing me to look at the screen.

I noticed the message right away, which was sent from my phone three days ago at 2:00 am. "I'm really into you, Ettore, so much so that I think about you every day. I'd like to meet up with you in the woods behind the school tomorrow; I have something I need to tell you."

I never sent that message. I shook my head desperately. "I didn't send this. I swear I didn't send this, Viola. I mean, three days ago, I was—"

Viola didn't give me any room to explain myself, as her lackeys swarmed around me, pinning me to the ground.

I heard Viola above me, her voice dripping with malice, just before the ice-cold water fell. "You enjoy throwing yourself at guys, don't you? I'm going to make sure you understand the consequences today, Vittoria!"

I was dragged into an old, deserted gym locker room. Viola was holding a baseball bat she had found somewhere.

She then used the tip to force my chin up and hissed, "Go on—spit it out. What were you planning to do with him in the woods? Did you plan on making a move on him? You slut! You should have been taught a lesson long ago!"

I remained on my knees, shivering and drenched, my voice trembling with every word. "I never asked him to meet me. I swear I didn't—"

I was instantly struck on the back with the baseball bat, producing a sickening thud. I sprawled onto the floor, the impact driving every bit of air from my lungs. I gasped with an open mouth, but I couldn't draw a single breath.

"What did you just say?"

"I didn't—"

I got hit in quick succession. I curled into a fetal position, desperate to disappear. I tried to shield myself, but it was useless; the blows never stopped landing on new parts of my body.

I didn't even have the energy left to scream after receiving dozens of hits to my stomach. I finally gave in and whispered, "I'm the one who did it. I seduced him."

It was only then that they stopped hitting me.

Viola crouched down, her fingers digging into my chin as she forced me to look at her. "If you had just said that to begin with, we could have skipped all this, Vittoria."

She then asked one of her lackeys to bring her a utility knife. "Your admission alone isn't enough, though. You need a permanent reminder of what you've done."

She held my left arm still, rolled my sleeve up, and began slicing into the skin of my forearm repeatedly.

I felt the initial chill of the metal, then a sharp, fiery sting, while blood began to ooze from the cuts, running down my arm and dripping onto the ground.

Viola etched three letters into my skin—M, U, and R. She then stood up, tossed the bloodied utility knife away, and dusted off her hands. "You're a murderer, Vittoria. You'll never be rid of your crimes even when you die and end up in hell!"

I was left alone on the cold concrete of the locker room after they walked away.

I stayed where I was, staring at the flickering fluorescent light on the ceiling as it buzzed. I was aching all over, and the cut on my left forearm kept bleeding until my sleeve turned dark crimson.

I was drifting in and out of consciousness when I caught the sound of people talking nearby. I recognized that it was Viola talking with Ettore. I was momentarily stunned, as Ettore was supposed to be dead.

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